Late
by Chimera2
Summary: Lillian is waiting


"Open a window please. It's too stuffy in here." Smiling at the nurse's jump and surprised expression, she added, "It's alright. They haven't invented a drug that can keep me knocked out very long." A scratchy voice, exhausted and no doubt parched with post-surgical thirst. 

The nurse hesitated, hand frozen on her patient's pale wrist. Losing count of the pulsing beats, she leaned forward to make sure the woman was really conscious. The light blue eyes were open and soothing, laughter dancing in the tired depths. Trustworthy too, so she crossed the room and inched up the window furthest from the patient's bed. A quick grin, and she vanished to alert the doctors that Mrs. Luthor was awake.

@@

"Where is he?" 

"Lillian. Your, ah, voice sounds stronger than it did last night." The words are steady, but his dark hands betray him, shaking slightly as they smooth down the soft sheets around her immobile body. The room is still full of shadows, washing over their faces like water, but without any cleansing effect. She can see his features twisted in nervousness, anxiety, fear. It has been a long time since she smiled because of that face. It isn't that he lets her see the disquietude, it's that he is unable to hide it. A distinction to be savored, but not now.

"I want to see my son Lionel. Where is he?"

@@

The library. Of course. Private and quiet, the perfect place to…

Lionel sighs and pivots away from the window. "Who's he with this time? That Johanssen girl again?"

"Actually sir," the young assistant corrects, "he's with a man." When Lionel's eyebrows raise, he quickly adds, "Master Lex appeared to be interviewing him." Eyebrows remain firmly planted, still questioning. "In regards to Mrs. Luthor's conditon. Dr. Benjamin Ackles, I believe."

"Dr. Ackles? I've heard of him." The assistant jumps at Lillian's intrusion, while Lionel only looks mildly perturbed that his wife knows more about the situation than he does. "He's made some fascinating breakthroughs in heart disease treatment. I believe he's been developing a new beta-adrenergic blocker for asthma sufferers with heart conditions. Like me." She tries to sit up and grins faintly at the assistant as she fails, sliding back into the unkempt sheets. He rushes over and props her up with a pillow, to be rewarded with a larger smile from her and a dismissive nod from Lionel.

"I thought you were still asleep. Are they giving you enough pain medication?" The voice is almost empathetic, but the edge of annoyance is magnified by cement walls already filled to brimming with compassion and sadness. He lifts the thick chart hanging from the foot of her bed. Flipping through the pages so he can avoid her eyes, Lionel waits for her non-answer.

"There is no reason for you to concern yourself with what's in my IV drip. I'm fine." Lillian bats the chart limply with her right hand and catches her husband's gaze. "It appears Alexander is in charge of my care now, so perhaps you should take it up with him."

@@

Alone. Lionel is gone, back to the office, back to the red-headed secretary, back to real life. That's alright by Lillian's count, he is, after all, insufferable in hospitals. Questions twitching out of his body and anger shooting out of his eyes. And yes, she can see it, but even that singular prize is losing its importance in the face of an illness impossible to hide and a son impossible to locate. 

The nurses and doctors come and go, with small talk as currency, paying their way into her dressing gown and then out of the room. Everyone is too quiet, and she can tell something is wrong. Off, in a very bad way. But no one will say, unable to give her even an ounce of truth through those tight smiles.

She's too tired to be indignant though. No point in getting worked up. The prognosis wasn't good before surgery, and it's doubtful her condition has improved much. Just a last ditch effort. Alexander's suggestion. 

Lillian wonders how involved her son is in determining her treatment. He would work behind the scenes, to avoid his father's …chastisement? She isn't sure what Lionel would have against their son trying to save her life, but she is certain he would not approve. Too much passion, even for family. 

Breathing shallowly, she sinks back into the pillows. Needs to write, needs to explain. The monitors beep erratically, and someone will be in a moment to check on her condition. They can set the watch in the drawer of the nightstand. Alexander will understand the gift, she's positive. But when will he get here? Will he even find it?

@@

Lex perfected the strut a year earlier, and now utilizes it constantly. It is deliberate but unconcerned with who might be behind him, or who happened to be waiting for him. Always a smirk, or at the very least an expression that conveys nothing less than utter disinterest in everything around him. The strut serves him well. It is a shield to the less enjoyable aspects of his life as an outcast to the refined world he is destined to lead, and a gateway into worlds that welcome and encourage his rebellion. 

And now his mother is sick, again and still. He sits patiently in the back of the limo, glancing at the most recent fax from the hospital, which reports nothing unusual as of an three hours ago. It arrived in the middle of his meeting with Dr. Ackles, who was almost smug while telling him that Lillian's condition would steadily worsen before she died. 

Heads turn at a bald thirteen year old with the audacity to strut into a hospital. He ignores them studiously, and slides into an elevator just as it dings open. People gape, and Lex once again experiences the sensation of being thrilled and bored at the same time.


End file.
